Fade Into You
by xsphinxslady
Summary: A/U: Set after "Once More With Feeling" but while Angelus has been de-souled to help with the Beast. What if Buffy remembers her time with human-Angel during IWRY and doesn't react the way Angel would expect? What if she secretly prefers as Spike puts it: "Some monster in her man"? Warning: Dark Buffy, Evil Angelus, and BigBad Spike team up to take out the Beast and the First.
1. IntroductionPrologue

**Fade Into You**

_A/N: My latest trip down the rabbit hole that is fanfiction has created this little beauty. What will probably be my one-and-only attempt at writing Buffy The Vampire Slayer/Angel fanfiction. __**Warning! This is an Angelus fic. **__And not the kind of Angelus that's just a grumpy Angel either. We're talking full-on evil-god-of-seductive-destruction Angelus. There will be blood, gore, torture, and other possibly offensive material not for the faint of heart._

_I will try and warn you before the more potentially graphic and/or offensive material, however I may not always succeed._

_With that said here we go: my A/U version of B/Aus/S…because I can and I love a good menage a tois._

_This fic takes place in an A/U world where I've taken A LOT of liberties with the timelines. Not sorry. This is going to be way off-canon where I've merged The Beast storyline with Angelus's return and the Buffy episode "Once More With Feeling."_

_Disclaimer__: BtVS and Angel belong to Joss, et al. This is merely a work of fanfiction that in no way is an attempt to claim ownership over the characters of the Buffyverse._

"_Fade Into You" by Clare Bowen ft. Sam Palladio is the song that I reference and use in this story. A really pretty, meaningful song that you can find a video for on YouTube if you're interested._

Now that all that has been covered…on with the show….

**Prologue**

"I want my Slayer."

Feral yellow eyes – demon eyes stared implacably at Wesley Wyndham-Pryce through the bars of their cage. There was a scheming intelligence behind those eyes. The eyes of Angelus, the Scourge of Europe.

Wesley finally understood how Buffy always knew the difference between the two: Angel and Angelus.

The eyes gave the game away.

Angelus sat nonchalantly on the floor of his cage without a care in the world. They made the mistake of bringing him back. Now they get to deal with the consequences of what even he – although he deeply appreciates it – has to admit was an epically stupid idea. And he'll be damned – again – if he helps out Soul-Boy's little posse without getting something in return.

They'd prepared well. Angelus would give them that. There was no way out of this cage for him, he's already discovered that for himself.

The only way out was if they _let_ him out.

Even with the monumentally idiotic stunt of de-souling him in the first place…he doesn't think realistically that they will be _that_ suicidal.

Which left him with his demand – one that he knows they'll bow to no matter how much it rankles the former-Watcher and company.

"Which Slayer would that be?" Wesley asked him coolly. "As I recall you're on rather better terms with Faith than you are with Buffy."

Angelus scoffed.

Soul-Boy might've fucked up their relationship with their Mate but _Angelus _certainly hasn't. As if that brunette psycho was even a patch on _his _Buff.

"Don't be stupid, boy." Angelus replied with his trademark smirk. "You know very well who I mean."

"Yes," Wesley shook his head slowly as he turned to stalk from the room and make the damned call. "I do."

The jaunty tune of one of the most vicious demons to ever live whistling "Molly Malone" ringing in his ears long after he was safely tucked away in his office.


	2. The Dream

**Fade Into You**

_A/N: Ok, now we're getting into the actual story. There is a time-lapse of two weeks between the end of "Once More, With Feeling" and Angelus demanding "his Slayer." This is my way of filling in what happened between those two events and setting up Buffy and Spike's relationship which needed to already be established _before_ she meets with Angelus or she never would've gotten involved with Spike beyond that kiss in the alley._

**The Dream**

_Buffy stared at her surrounding in confusion for a brief moment before recognized where she was. Or wasn't since she burned this particular warehouse to the ground after Angelus snapped Ms. Calendar's neck like a twig._

_There was Spike – looking every inch the Big Bad – stroking one hand down Drusilla's fine brown hair as they watched their Sire before them._

_And it was definitely Angelus._

_From the leather pants to the smirk to the posture that screamed confidence and power, that body that taught her the gentlest of touches and some of her worst emotional pain was Angelus._

_The funny part was nothing Angelus did ever came close to breaking her._

_Not once._

_Only Angel – sweet, soulful Angel – was the one with that dubious honor._

_She couldn't hear what they were saying, only one phrase carried to her over the white noise that pervaded her prophetic Slayer visions._

"_To kill this girl you have to love her…"_

_The scene changed turning into the blank walls and sterile environment that was almost – but not quite – the peaceful setting that she spent her death in until Willow and the others pulled her back down to Earth._

"_Never were truer words spoken."_

_Buffy recognized _that_ voice._

_Turning she faced the never-changing figure of Whistler as he propped himself in all his badly-dressed glory against one of the plain white walls._

"_I know that better than anyone." She agreed with an arch look at the messenger. "I've died twice and twice it was to save those I loved. First my Mom and the rest of my friends in Sunnydale, then to save Dawnie. Believe me, I'm well-aware of my fatal-flaw."_

_Whistler tsked at her._

"_There's more going on than what you think." He said with a shrug. "You needed to see that for a reason. Just like you need to see what's coming next. Otherwise…"_

"_Let me guess," she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Let's see if I've learned anything these last six years of Slaying. Willow meddled with things she wasn't supposed to when she brought me back. I know it. Spike knows it. Giles knows it. Hell, everyone knows it except for Willow herself. If I had to take a stab at what you're trying to warn me of, I'd say my unplanned reanimation tipped the balance somewhere and now Big Bads of massive proportions are coming out of the woodwork."_

_She gave his indulgent face a sarcastic look._

"_How'd I do?"_

"_Pretty close." He admitted after a moment. "You were supposed to be at peace. The only reward for a Slayer has always been her final rest. In all the thousands of years Slayers have been around, only a handful ever lived passed eighteen. Of those, none ever died and came back twice over. You're not just _a_ Slayer, you've become _The_ Slayer…"_

"_And the other team doesn't like that. Joy." She gave a mock-sigh. "Just when I thought things weren't going to get any weirder, you have to show up with a whole new bag of wiggins."_

"_You're going to get a call soon." Whistler said, treading carefully close to the line. He can't say too much or the Powers will visit some hideous punishment on him. But if he doesn't give her enough, things are going to go to Hell. Literally. "There are two paths for you to choose from coming. Choose carefully." He gave her a stern look. "What you see next is supposed to help you decide. I don't agree with it…but then…I'm just the messenger."_

_With that he snaps his fingers and she's sucked through what looks suspiciously like a black-hole._

_oOoOoOo_

"_Are ya sure about this?" An Irish voice confronted Whistler as Doyle stepped out from his hiding place. "I still say you're not givin' the lass enough credit. With all she's been through she's not the same shiny-haired lass that Angel fell in love with. I don' know that pushin' her down this road is wise."_

"_Don't underestimate her." Whistler gave his co-conspirator a firm look. "You don't know the Slayer like I do. You didn't see the look in her eye when I handed her that sword before she sent Angelus to Hell. She might've been all fire then but she's been tempered and changed by death and time. She won't break."_

"_Angelus," Doyle pointed out needlessly. "Burns hotter than the flames of any Hell dimension. Especially when it comes to that lass. A fire that bright could melt even the toughest steel."_

"_Maybe." Whistler allowed with a sigh, running his hand over his head. "But it's a chance we have to take. If the Slayer is going to survive at all she'll need both of them with her. This is the only way I can see her accepting them in her life. A dark path is better than no path at all."_

_oOoOoOo_

_When she came out the other side of the black hole she was nothing more than a ghost again, watching scenes pass her by as she stood there helpless to change anything._

_She saw herself storm into Angel's office after his stalkerish Thanksgiving visit to Sunnydale. She saw the demon, the attack, and the chase turn out all very differently that what she remembered._

_Than what she thought she remembered._

_She saw herself standing on a pier – and then Angel _her_ Angel walking towards her in the sunlight, as human as a dream._

_She saw them sitting awkwardly in his kitchen._

_She saw them making frantic love against the refrigerator – followed by every other flat surface in his apartment and culminating in ice cream-flavored kisses in his bed._

_Then things changed._

_She saw him go to the Oracles._

_She saw the deal he made._

_Then Buffy felt that last vestige of love that she carried around for the man dissipate as if it never been, replaced by a yearning that the monster had carried out his gruesome tasks those years ago._

_Either killing her or turning her because either of those would've hurt less than watching them get everything they'd ever wanted – a chance at a normal human life together – and have Angel throw it all away from some misguided need to protect her._

_Like she needs protecting by him._

_More like protection _from_ him and his shitty decision-making skills._

_Then she saw something that truly filled her with rage._

_Both at Angel and at the Powers That Be._

_Buffy watched helplessly as a light – a soul – was pulled from her._

_Not from her heart or her chest where souls reside based on what Angel told her once of what it felt like to have his soul shoved back inside him. No, her soul was more or less safe._

_The light – the soul – came from another source._

_It came from between her hips, right over where her womb would be._

_And Buffy fell into a black wave a rage that seemed to never end._

_oOoOoOo_

"_The lass isna taking this well." Doyle watched Buffy in true concern as she screamed herself hoarse. "Not that I thought she would but…"_

"_Hush." Whistler demanded, not sparing a glance for his accomplice._

_oOoOoOo_

_When she woke from her rage, Buffy found herself shackled inside a shadowed cave, filled with strange, primitive cave-drawings. Taking stock she noted that her hands were free but one of her ankles was secured by a manacle into the solid bedrock. Giving it a few practice tugs, she realized that she couldn't break the chain that bound her. Not without finding a weapon of some kind._

_Her plans for escape were disrupted when a quartet of what had to be African tribesman walked solemnly into the cave and surrounded her, each taking a point until she was at the very center of their little box. Not sparing a glance or a word for her bound form, the four men began chanting and banging their ritual staves upon the stone floor. Hearing a few words she recognized from her vision quest where she met the First Slayer, Buffy felt herself begin to panic._

_She didn't know what the fuck was going on but she knew for sure she didn't want any part of it._

"Hush, pet." _The words carried to her on the wind, the voice achingly familiar in this dark place. _"Tis only a dream, luv."

_Buffy could almost feel the cold, elegant hand stroking her hair._

_As the chanting got louder and the beating of the staves more rhythmic, Buffy felt something begin to rise, both within herself and within the box the chanting tribesmen have placed her in._

_A black mist rose from within the shadows and started swirling around her in a vortex._

"_This is where our power came from." The First Slayer stepped from the shadows, unexpectedly eloquent, as the clearly-demonic power threatened to consume her. "They bound me here and let it take me. I was only a girl but they thought a girl would be easy to control."_

_The two Slayers shared a vicious grin. "Foolish men." The First Slayer said with a laugh and a shake of her head._

"_What is this going to do to me?" Buffy asked, resigned. She knew now why Whistler warned her about what was coming next – and why he didn't agree with it. Letting a Champion be consumed by a demonic-entity is usually not for the good._

"_It will help you see what we really are." The First Slayer said cryptically. Buffy hates the fucking cryptic. "It will help you find what you will need."_

_And then Buffy was lost as the black mist possessed her._

_oOoOoOo_

Buffy snapped her eyes open with a gasp as she jolted into awareness. Her mind screamed at her that it was all a dream but her new-and-improved Slayerness just snorted in derision and rolled its eyes at her mind – if such a thing was possible.

The Angel thing…that was a vision, a dream. Not a very good one since it unlocked a secret that Angel was clearly willing to do just about anything to keep.

But it was still a dream, like the scene in the warehouse.

Although dreaming of Angel's betrayal, Angelus's prior emergence, and getting a power upgrade via demon-dust isn't exactly a trio of events that inspired the warm-fuzzies. If she wasn't sure before, she was sure now.

She came back wrong.

A large part of her light…her goodness…that piece of her that drew people to her and inspired the Scoobies to follow her had been lost in her afterlife.

Now that she was living in her after-afterlife she's having prophetic dreams again and getting demon-mist shoved down her throat.

Although…that might not be a bad thing.

The First Slayer said that the mist, the source of the ancient Slayer power, would help her "find what she needs." Not that Buffy has the slightest idea…

Oh my God!

She's in Spike's crypt!

Before she could so much as squeal or start to freak out, the man er, vamp, himself sauntered around the corner towards the large bed she was still reclining on.

"Good to see you're up, pet." He said with a flirtatious smirk. "Singin' and dancin' all day n bloody night plus a good snog must've really taken it out of ya."

Buffy just rolled her eyes as she climbed from his bed – thankfully still mostly dressed except for her jacket and boots. She remembered now going with Spike back to his place to avoid the angsty-drama that was sure to be her house following the aftermath of Sweet's spell. She can still hear some of the words from the previous day ringing in her ears.

Tara and Willow breaking up over Willow's misuse of magic.

Dawn's shoplifting.

Giles deciding to leave again.

Xander being as hopeless as ever, summoning the demon in the first place.

But it's her own song – and Spike's – that really haunts her.

"_This isn't real, but I just wanna feel…"_

"_Let me take my love, and bury it, in a hole six foot deep…"_

"_I touch the fire and it freezes me…"_

"_Just let me rest in peace…"_

"_I look into it and it's black…"_

"_I died, so many years ago…but you can make me feel…"_

Yeah, Sweet had it right when he said that secrets just kept pouring out. Who would've guessed after all that Spike would be the one to stop her deadly dance? Or that she would leave everyone else at the last moment to go out and share poignant duet and a stunning kiss with the chipped vampire…

"Once more, with feeling." She murmured as she tugged on her boots.

Spike heard it and knew what was plaguing her mind. They'd both revealed a helluva lot more to each other than they'd would've wanted to. But that's the nature of the beastie. Muck everything off and then enjoy the resulting carnage.

"You weren't dreamin' of yesterday when you were screamin' in your sleep, pet." He said as he took a drink straight from the whiskey bottle held loosely in one hand. "And you were screamin' to wake the dead, Slayer."

"No," she looked at him out of eyes even more haunted than normal since her return from Heaven. "I wasn't."

Arching a brow at this sudden bout of honesty he leaned up against the wall of his lair as she sat wearily on the edge of his bed, having tired after pulling on her boots.

"Care to share with the class, luv?" He asked. "Since I did hold you through it, I'd like to know what the bloody hell it was about. It wasn't a normal nightmare by any stretch, pet."

"It wasn't a nightmare." She sighed, staring up at the rocky ceiling. "Not really."

"Slayer vision, then?" Alert now, Spike pushed off the wall and came over to crouch in front of his – well he'd like her to be his – girl. "Bad one?"

"Mixed bag of wiggins." She said, looking him straight in those vibrant blue eyes. "I don't know what to make of it." Besides the whole demon-mist thing. That part she actually understands. Vampires are demon-kin. Bastard creatures created by mixing true demon blood with humans. To hunt demon-kin in the ancient times you would need something just as powerful.

Who cared if they were essentially dooming countless innocent girls to death and possession by a terrible force, an ever-hungry, ever-hunting, never-satisfied power?

They needed their Slayer.

Oh yeah, she understood that part of her vision alright. She's been living it for years. Men more concerned with their own survival than with right or wrong. She's seen it over and over again in humans – not least among the Watcher's Council – and demons alike.

It's the rest of her that's thrown her for a loop.

"Care to share, Slayer?" Spike reached out and chafed her chilled hands, trying to reassure her without overstepping the invisible and constantly-shifting boundaries she kept throwing up in their way.

"It was all things from the past." She said after several long moments, her brow furrowed as she considered that oddity. "That's never happened before. Usually my visions are of future and near-future events. Not things that've already happened."

"What kinda things, pet?"

"Did Angelus ever talk to you about how to kill me?" She asked abruptly, wanting to check the factual content of her visions. She wouldn't put it passed the Powers to screw with her to manipulating her into doing what they want.

And something big must be coming if they want her ties to Angel completely severed.

Now Spike was the one confuse, rearing back on his heels as he watched the churning emotions crossing her face and stirring in her eyes. There was something else there, in those green depths. Something dark that wasn't there before. At least, not completely. Something woke something up in the Slayer. Whether that's good or bad remains to be seen.

"Yeah he did, pet." He answered after a while. "You had both of them – Peaches and the Scourge - all tied in knots. Couldn't decide if he wanted to break ya, or turn ya, or just kill ya. Or all three. Made him go a little mad there at the end."

"Yeah," she said breathlessly as the full-importance of his confirmation crashed down on her. She'd lost something. Something big. Before she even knew she had it. All because Angel couldn't handle being a normal human. Because he had to _protect her_.

To borrow a phrase from Spike – _the bloody ponce_.

"You ok, pet?"

"Yeah," she shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Bigger picture, Buffy. There was a thing or things out there that she needed to find and her new demony-essence is supposed to help her do it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Looks like something big and bad is coming and for once they've given me a decent heads-up. There's something I need to find. Something that has to do with me being the Slayer."

"Any idea what?" Spike arched a brow. Slayer-lore is it? Well, she's talkin' to the right vamp, he knows a thing or two about Slayers.

"I'm not sure." She said as she climbed to her feet and grabbing his hand tugged him towards the ladder. "But I think I know where to start looking."


	3. Contingency Plans

**Fade Into You**

_Disclaimer:__ BtVS and Angel belong to people with a lot more money than me._

**The Contingency Plan**

They'd walked a while in silence from the crypt before Spike understood where they were going.

"Your place to start looking is the Mansion then, is it pet?" He gave her a sardonic look. "The blood poof left you a present then?"

Buffy laughed drily. If he only knew…

"Not Angel." She said as Crawford Street came into sight. "Angelus."

"They share the same mind, luv." Spike pointed out gently. "What one knew so did the other." And there's no bleedin' way Peaches would let his demon leave little "gifts" for the Slayer. He would've taken care of those right-off when he came back from his holiday in a hell dimension.

Casting him a witchy look from under lowered lids, Buffy took out a key from its hiding spot next to her favorite stake before turning it in the lock and opening the doors.

"Not necessarily." She said as they moved inside and she flipped on the master switch that turned on all the lights in the main rooms of the house. The sudden illumination wasn't kind to either of their pairs of eyes and it took them a moment to adjust.

Once his eyes stopped screamin' Spike took a careful look around. Someone – no need to guess who – has been maintaining the Mansion. A small part of him understood it but the rest of him was boggled. For all that Peaches stayed here for a time, the Mansion was one hundred percent Angelus's territory. One of dozens of grand homes scattered all over the world for the Master vampire to call his own. Why would the Slayer spend her own time and energy on keeping it up?

Leading him to the stairs she explained.

"Angelus, as I'm sure you well know, beneath all the rage, hate, and plain crazy, is an extremely intelligent and meticulous creature." She began leading him to the Master suite – a suite that had chains criss-crossing the door and held with another lock that she swiftly undid. "He knew that there was a chance – however insignificant it was from his perspective – that he could lose. Either by being re-souled or by being given the true death. So he made a contingency plan."

Buffy took a deep breath as they entered Angelus's lair. She hasn't been in here except to clean once a month or so for years. The impossibly wide and deep bed still had the red silk sheets_ he_ selected. Weapons and fine art of all kinds were scattered about the walls and showcased in display cases. Tapestries and "lost" masterpieces hung side-by-side Angelus's own artwork.

She knew the moment Spike saw the focal point of the room, one you can only see facing away from the bed as it was positioned to be seen _from_ the bed.

A life-sized oil painting – one of Angelus's originals.

"Bugger me." Spike breathed his eyes wide. "That's the best work of 'is I've ever seen, pet."

Kneeling before a section of paneling under the bed, Buffy only nodded her head, well familiar with the content of the painting. Brushing her hand carefully down the intricate carving she found the catch she was looking for and pressed it, making a section of the paneling release with a faint click. Opening the hidden cubby, she removed the chest Angelus had placed there for her and carried it over to his desk, looking up at the painting at last.

She never posed for it.

Angelus had done it strictly from memory and fantasy. Or given recent events, perhaps from a vision. Over six feet tall, it was a nude study of Buffy, arms secured with silk wrapping around her wrists and held above her head. Her head was thrown back with a look of ecstasy upon her face, eyes barely shown from under lowered lids. Angelus was behind her, his sulky mouth buried in the crook of his neck while his burning eyes stared out from the painting. He was nude but largely concealed behind her own form, large hands wrapped around her tiny waist. Another set of hands – elegant and pale but still very masculine – trailed up her outer thighs. You couldn't see who the hands belonged to outside of the wrists and a turn of a shoulder. But you were sure that there was another present, if concealed by the shadows.

It was an intricate – and erotic – work of art.

And on all three of the left ring fingers was a ring in the same motif – if very different styles.

They all wore _claddagh_ rings.

Finally turning from the painting, Spike noticed the chest that Buffy was unlocking and opening.

"What's this then, pet?"

"Angelus's contingency plan." She answered, staring down into the contents and then lifting out a letter and holding it out to Spike.

Scanning it quickly, Spike let out a soundless whistle. _Bloody hell._ The great ponce was a wily one. Found a way to conceal certain memories from the soul. Didn't want Peaches interfering with something that could potentially save the Slayer's life – if Angelus wasn't around anyway. Lifting his eyes from the fine vellum, he commented.

"He always was possessive of you, luv." He said with an arched brow. "Wanted your everything for himself, he did. Whether it was your life, your blood, or your death, it all belonged to him. Doesn't surprise me that much that he would find a way to protect you, pet, if he couldn't kill you himself."

"That's pretty much my thought." She agreed with a bitter laugh.

"What are these gifts he left you then?" He asked setting the letter in the open lid of the chest.

Silently she lifted out a thick file and set it aside before taking out a delicate ancient text – and the translation in a journal written in Angelus's own hand – followed by a dagger and wrapped velvet bundle.

"The file is a compilation of all the Slayer's who lived passed eighteen. Of the six in our known history besides myself that have done that, it turns out that _all_ of them were known to have had at least one affair – one-nighters or otherwise – with a demon or vampire. He didn't want me to let them guilt me."

She finished on a whisper, thinking about Angelus's note that he'd left on top of the file. A note that she tucked away with Angel's _claddagh_ and cross as well as the drawings and flowers the demon gave her.

"Bloody hell, pet." Spike flipped through the file, taking it in with the rapid intelligence he hides so carefully behind his flamboyant nature and outrageous attitude. "That's one helluva secret the Council's been keepin'." And after all the shit she's taken from her Watcher and friends over _Angel_ of all vampires. At least the poncey bastard had a soul. The other Slayers couldn't make the same claim about their lovers.

"That's not even the least of it." She said with a sigh gesturing to the old texts. "Turns out that there are actual Slayer weapons, lore, texts, and artifacts that should've been passed down to me. Instead they've all been either lost or are being hoarded by the council. That dagger is one of them."

Setting down the file, Spike lifted it. Feeling a wave of unease tingle down his back he set it down abruptly. That pretty piece wasn't for the likes of him.

"How'd the Sire come by it?"

"Stole it from a museum in England." She laughed genuinely. "Apparently he got wind of it when he was looking for Acathla in Europe and took a side trip."

"Sounds like the wanker." Spike said without rancor. There were times he missed the bastard. Angelus for all his evil was quite a bit of fun at times. Not like Peaches with all his brooding and gloom.

"You don't even know the half of it." They shared a chuckle. "But that wasn't he gift. Not really. What he wanted me to find if he wasn't around was something else."

Flipping open the text she found the page she was looking for and showed Spike the drawing. Spike gave a long whistle as he took in the faded image.

"That's a thing of beauty, it is." He gave her a teasing look. "Just like you, luv."

Nudging him with her shoulder she told him what she'd figured out. Well…what she figured out before Angel returned from hell anyway. Angelus's minion lawyer had tracked her down in L.A. and given her the chest and the letter. But once Angel returned…

There just didn't seem much point. Especially once he left her. So she just let herself forget. Only the First Slayer's prompting sent her diving back into Angelus's plots. That and her fury with Angel.

"It's a scythe." She said stroking the page with her hand. "The first and ultimate Slayer weapon. Forged in our blood and 'dark' fire. It's been lost for over a thousand years." She gave him a vicious grin. "And we're going to find it."

"All right, luv." Spike nodded after taking in her nearly-glowing face. Most life he's seen in her in ages. "Where do we start lookin'?"

"There's a symbol." She turned the page and pointed. "It seems familiar. Really familiar. If I could just…" She trailed off feeling what she needs to know being just beyond her grasp.

Taking a look, Spike felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. He knows _exactly_ where he's seen that little beastie before.

"It's on a tomb." He said, interrupting her reverie. "In the same cemetery as me crypt. You've probably walked and ran by it hundreds of times, pet."

She cursed as the image of a pyramid tomb with that symbol on its entrance became clear. He was right. Stupid vampire.

Packing everything away, except for the dagger that she tucked into her belt, her hand lingered for a long moment on the velvet wrapped bundle.

"What's that then, pet?"

Shaking her head, she put it along with everything else away and handed the chest to Spike who returned it to its cubby. Some secrets were too private for her to share. Not yet, anyway. And she didn't want anyone to stumble upon Angelus's gifts. Not with all the issues they're already having and Dawn's currently wandering fingers taking whatever she wanted.

"Nothing I want to talk about." She said firmly before locking up and leading him out of the Mansion. Maybe soon she could confide in him about that. But not right now.

oOoOoOo

The next night after dealing with all of the fallout from Sweet's spell – including Tara moving out and Dawn's grounding – Buffy met Spike outside the tomb.

She hates walking into these things blind. After everything she's lived through – and not lived through – she absolutely hates being in the dark about what's going on.

She had another dream last night. This one of Angelus plotting, and finding, and putting together the chest he left for her. After all a dream was how she knew where to hide it to keep it safe and secret. God knows Angelus never would've told her about that secret cubby in his bed.

Spike brushed one hand down her back and gave her a sideways hug, ending with a kiss on the top of her head.

"It'll be alright, luv." He whispered against her hair. "I've gotcha and I'm not goin' anywhere, pet."

Not unless she sends him away. One things he's got figured, leavin' this girl is the surest way to hurt her. How that poofter Peaches never learned that in his years with her, Spike'll never know. Wanted to do the "noble" thing and wound up losin' the best thing that ever happened to the broody bastard. Bloody idiot.

Taking a deep breath she sent him a shy, grateful glance from under her lashes.

"Thanks, Spike." She whispered almost too low for even a vampire to hear. "You don't know what that means to me. Not just to hear it but to know you mean it."

"Yes I do, luv." The sideways hug moved into a full-on embrace as he rested his cool cheek against her hair. "I study Slayers, remember pet? Even when I wasn't here I kept tabs on ya, always knew I would come back for ya. Just never thought…"

"That you really would turn into Love's Bitch?" She teased him looking up into his cornflower-blue eyes. She remembered how Angelus and Angel both used to taunt him over his attachment to Drusilla. Even more so after he came back to force Willow into doing a love spell for him.

"Yeah," he groaned. "That's me alright, pet. Never could get rid of William the Bloody Awful Poet no matter how hard the Sire tried to beat 'im outta me."

She gave a giggle, one of the first pure sounds of enjoyment she's made since her return from the dead.

"The Bloody Awful Poet?" She laughed, leaning her forehead against his rock-hard chest. "_That's_ how you got that name?"

"Yeah." If a vampire could blush he would be right about now. Stupid Slayer with her puppy dog eyes, always makin' 'im say things he shouldn't. "I was a gentleman 'fore Angelus turned me for Dru. Wrote the most godawful poems. Never let me live it down, he did."

Recovering her composure, Buffy moved away, squaring her shoulders and turning to face the entrance to the tomb.

"Well," she took a deep breath. "Here we go."

With Spike at her back she pushed open the door to the tomb, taking in at a glance the lit torches and the alter behind gauzy white hangings. Pure white pillars like those in a Greek temple, complete with gold leaf at the tops, lined the center of the single room. As they moved farther into the room, a figure moved from the shadows behind the alter.

What in Spike's lifetime would've been called a "handsome woman" of indeterminate age, the priestess was dressed in the Greek fashion, all flowing fabrics and braids. There was a frown on her ageless face.

"Slayer?" She spoke in a mellow timbre. "What are you doing here? The time has not come yet."

Buffy just rolled her eyes with a snort.

"I think that's for me to decide." She said in a commanding tone that had Spike watching her carefully.

Death has changed her more than she knows if she can carry that off so easily. In the past anytime someone connected to the Slayers had something to impart, Buffy would at least give them a small amount of deference. A respect that is completely absent in her voice and carriage now.

"You're just a child." The Guardian dismissed her easily. "There is nothing to decide. The time is not right."

Buffy chuckled harshly. "Who are you to call the Slayer a child."

"_A_ Slayer." The Guardian corrected. "And I am the Guardian. It is my sacred duty to protect the secrets of the Slayer line. A duty I have carried out for time beyond measure."

"And was it your duty to let _holy_ men," Buffy nearly spat the word. "Pervert and bind a demonic essence to create the Slayers?"

Spike's head swung around as her accusation. The Slayers are the result of black magic? A demonic binding? That bloody hell explains a lot.

"What was done was what was needed." The Guardian waved one elegant hand. "No more."

Buffy lunged forward and grabbing the Guardian bent her backwards over the alter, one hand tunneled into her dress while the other held her dagger – the gift from Angelus – to her heart.

"I am _The_ Slayer." Buffy gritted out from between her teeth, thoroughly enraged by the Guardian's cavalier attitude. "I have died twice and twice I've returned, each time stronger than the last. I possess the essence of the First Slayer and she is my guide. I wield one of the sacred weapons."

Lifting her captive up, she dug the dagger into the Guardian's skin just enough to draw blood.

"I am tired of being pushed around and treated at best as a child and at worst an expendable tool. I am more than a Slayer and I am _done_ playing by someone else's rules. I make my own rules now."

Shaking her a little she finished her rant.

"And. I. Want. What's. Mine."

Spike could barely control his arousal at the sight of watching the Slayer go all fierce and dark. Worse now than any of the fights they've had. Before she was all shiny and bright, a rich foil for his evilness. Even when they "danced" together as they fought a mutual enemy she was never this commanding. All that power and passion wrapped in a beautiful blonde package. _Oh, yeah, Spikey._ He thought to himself. _You've got it bad._

"A v-vineyard." The Guardian stuttered out. "A few miles north of town. In the caves beneath the complex you should find what you seek."

Tossing her away, Buffy gave her a smirk copied from Angelus himself.

"There," Buffy tossed her dagger and caught it one-handed. "That wasn't so hard, now was it? What of the other artifacts?"

Straightening, the Guardian brushed herself off before answering. What has this world come to that this dark creature was the ultimate champion of light?

"Most have scattered to the four winds." She said with a sigh. "The one you seek was by far the most powerful and so I was commanded to keep watch over it. Many have been collected by those fools in the Watcher's Council. The sword remains hidden, although I do not know of its location. Somewhere in Europe I believe. You already have the dagger…"

"That's all then." Buffy turned to walk out, casting Spike a fathomless look, not missing his blatant arousal. "Have fun in your tomb."

"Wait!" The Guardian cried before they could leave. "There is a great evil coming! You must be prepared."

"Lady," she said with a sigh, casting her a look over one shoulder. "There's always a great evil coming. Each as different and unique as the next. There is no preparing until it tips its hand. Something I would think you would know if you're as old as you claim."

oOoOoOo

"Demon looks good on you, sweetheart." Spike purred as they made their way to his disreputable DeSoto. "Think we'll be able to get back to dancin' like we used to now, pet?"

Climbing into his passenger seat she gave a little chuckle as he cranked the engine and started off in the direction given by the Guardian.

"Probably." She said, thinking about her Slayer-demon-upgrade. "I have to admit…"

"It'll be nice to have a proper match again?" Spike sent her a devilish grin. "Couldn't agree more, luv. Hasn't been much real action for either of us since you came back. No way to tell how powerful you are now, pet, what with the Slayer-essence an' all. You goin' to explain that bit?"

Briefly Buffy explained the original spell that gave her the First Slayer as a spirit guide before she died and then her vision-that-wasn't-a-vision with the cave and the demon-dust.

"Bloody hell, pet." Spike shot her a look as he pulled off on a side road about a quarter-mile from the vineyard. "No wonder you're so brassed off about it. That's all kinds of fecked up, 'specially for a bunch of white hats."

Leading the way towards the outbuilding that Spike pointed out as likely being a storage facility for the wines to age – and the most probably site of underground access – Buffy felt a tingle trace up her spine.

"No argument from me." Buffy said, ignoring Spike's mumbled "for once". "With the whole "Sometimes-They-Come-Back" adventure and then the Slayer-dust-possession I'm treading more on the grey side of things these days anyway. Kinda like a chipped vamp I know." She shot him a teasing glance.

He's been there for her. Professions of love and steamy-sexy-kisses aside, Spike has been there for her more than anyone else. He got it. What they did…bringing her back, it had consequences. Only instead of Willow and Xander paying the price, _she_ is. Or at least that's what her little visit from the messenger would imply. Surprise, surprise. Willow and Xander get into trouble, poke a hornets nest, and Buffy's the one that gets stung saving their butts.

Again.

For probably the hundredth time.

Spike was continually fascinated by the new sides of Buffy she's taken to showing him – if no one else – since she came back from the dead.

"Time used to be, luv, that you wouldn't even admit to there bein' a grey area." He cast an eye up and down her leather-clad body. "All that time floatin' with the angels has changed you, pet. Here I thought you'd go haring off to round up your Scoobies and investigate this new evil and instead you put that bint in 'er place and stuck to your own plan."

"And?" Buffy whispered as they crept into the storage facility, searching for the basement access. "I thought you liked the new, darker me?"

"I do, luv. Don't get me wrong now, sweetheart." He shrugged, catching sight of what could be a seam in the floor. "I'm just kinda…proud, is all. Of the woman you've become. You're not little Goldilocks anymore, pet. You're a wolf, a predator." _Just like me._

Finding the latch he opened the trap door, revealing a set of stairs leading straight down. Giving her a wicked look, biting his bottom lip, he leapt down into the darkness.

Blowing out her breath, Buffy forced herself to ignore the heat wave that followed his little bit of a flirt, as he would call it. Damned vampire making her wet before they have to go into a dark underground cavern. Damned tease.

Following him down into the darkness, her enhanced night vision caught sight of him standing a little ways away in front of her, fiddling with something on the wall. Taking advantage of his preoccupation, Buffy crept up behind him and plastered her front against his back, pressing her lush curves against his solidly-muscled and cut body. Coming up on her tip-toes, she gently caught his earlobe between her teeth, ignoring the little gasp he let out at the aggressive act. Biting him lightly, she whispered in his ear.

"It isn't nice to tease the Slayer." Reaching one arm around him she stroked his chest with her hand from collarbone to his beltline. "I just might bite you know."

"Keep that up, pet." Spike nearly moaned at her touch. After all this time _she_ was finally making an advance, giving him some sign that he's not once again chasing after something he can never have. "And I _will_ bite."

Retrieving his lighter from his pocket, Spike lit the torch that he'd found in a holder on the rough stone wall, shedding some much-needed light into the dark cavern.

"Well, sweetheart." Spike said once he refound his voice. "I'm guessing the pretty bauble buried in the stone all King-Arthur-like would be yours, then?"

oOoOoOo

Back in the DeSoto with the Scythe resting across Buffy's lap, the Slayer stroking one hand up and down the blade and handle as if it was some kind of touchstone – and for a Slayer it very well could've been, Spike asked her where she wanted to go next.

"Nowhere." She said with a sigh, letting her head rest against the seat back. "Everywhere. Anywhere but here."

"Well I can probably go for two of the three, luv." Spike cradled her cheek in one cool hand, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "But that's not likely to fix what got ya all tangled up."

"Then the Mansion, I guess." She said, nuzzling against his hand for a split second before reclaiming her upright posture. "If a 'great evil' is coming I'd just as soon keep it to myself until I have a better handle on it. No need to get everyone all worried and sacred when they're all trying to recover from the singing and dancing fiasco. Worry and recovery are very unmixy things."

"Angelus left you more than an old book or two and a treasure map, didn't he pet?" Spike asked shrewdly, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Partly." She nodded, still stroking the Scythe. "And partly…an idea I had after I found out about the Watcher's Journals and then died and came back. I've kept an account on every Big Bad or even Semi-Bad that I've come up against. And researched any that I thought might come back somehow. Seemed like a silly idea so I never mentioned it, but…"

"If you can die and return twice, what's to stop the other side from borrowing from your playbook." Spike hit the nail on the head with his analogy. "Who all have you kept tabs on then, luv?"

Buffy began ticking off fingers as she thought over the major threats she's gone head-to-head with. Of course the first name on the list was also the most obvious.

"Angelus, Master Nest, The Judge, Order of Taraka," she shot him a glare over the assassins he sent after her back when they were still enemies. "Drusilla, The First…you…"

"What?" Spike arched a brow at her. "I made your list of 'might-return-and-kill-me' baddies?"

"Well, you came closer to ending me than anyone else besides Angelus. And on his part it was more because he couldn't make up his mind about me that I'm still around than anything else. And you did keep coming back."

"Point taken, Slayer." He shot her a wink, proud and absurdly pleased he made her list of Bid Bads. He is _the_ Big Bad after all, just like she's _the_ Slayer. "Point taken."

"Until I have some more dreams or we get some sign of what's going on, refreshing my memory on old enemies and 'dancing' with you and patrolling is really all I can do about this great evil to come. And there's no time like the present to get started."

Shooting him a wicked look of her own, she darts into the sparring room of the Mansion, setting down the Scythe on the floor near a wall.

"Too right, luv." Spike gave her a smirk as he shifting into a crouch. She's not the same Slayer that she was before her second death and definitely wasn't the same Buffy. But he liked this new version. They connect on a visceral level.

And whatever "great evil" thinks that it's going to take _his_ Slayer, _his _Buffy away from him has a nasty surprise coming its way.

The Big Bad is back and he'll protect his fierce little future-mate with everything he has.

oOoOoOo

_Less Than Two Weeks Later_

"_I. Want. My. Slayer." Angelus growled._


	4. The Call

**Fade Into You**

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

_A/N: For those of you who don't know/aren't familiar with True Blood/SVM, Dr. Ludwig is a gnome-type female doctor that works with supernaturals for a hefty fee. This will likely be the only appearance/mention of a TB/SVM character in this fic since it's not a Xover._

**The Call**

A week after finding her Scythe, Buffy was resting – if you could call it that – in the most unlikely of places.

With the mess that's been made of her after-afterlife, she's taken to coming to the Mansion when she's so wiped out she can barely function anymore. There was just too much drama and angst filling her and Dawn's house for her to really be able to rest there. She would sleep at Spike's, he offered once she told him about how bad trying to sleep undisturbed has gotten for her, but she knew that wouldn't work.

If the sexy-vibes in the air from being that close to the hot-as-sin vamp didn't keep her from sleeping, everyone would think to look for her there which pretty much made it pointless.

Only Spike knew about her upkeep of the Mansion.

Only Spike knew about a lot of things. The vamp having transitioned seamlessly from somewhat-mistrusted-ally into highly-trusted-confidant-guy with her return. Seeing for herself and hearing from Dawn all about how he took care of her – constantly watching over "his Niblet" combined with his friendship with her late mother…well. It would take someone with a heart of total stone not to soften over his high regard for her two favoritest people, even if one of them is dead and gone. One thing was for sure she trusted him not to try and bring her back to life and damn the consequences.

She had a feeling – no it was more than that – she _knew_ that Spike was dead-on when he accused Willow of knowing something could go wrong and needing a backup plan. Buffy believed down to her bones that when he said that if even a part of her was Buffy, he would move heaven and earth to keep her alive and kicking his butt.

Well…that's not exactly what he said…but close enough.

He knew where to find her after patrol now, if he didn't come along for some reason. Before her vision and claiming her Scythe she would always just head back home and go through the motions of being the Slayer. Try and sleep despite the nightmares of Spike's torture by Glory or crawling out of her own grave. Get up, get Dawn going, work, slay, repeat.

She knows that her friends and Dawn are worrying. She knows that Willow gets sacred when she doesn't come straight back from patrol and that Dawnie is only going to keep acting out the more that she's not there at night.

She just can't seem to make herself care anymore.

She's spent every second of every day worried and concerned about everyone else and what everyone else thinks, afraid to step one toe out of line for fear of losing everyone, since the day she was Called. She's lost Merrick, her first Watcher, Pike her first semi-boyfriend-person who knew about her "other" life. Her Mom is gone, Giles up and _left_. The only person she knows for sure who won't turn their back on her or abandon her is Spike.

Spike.

It always circles back around to him.

Banishing the thoughts from her mind, Buffy forced herself into sleep, hoping that maybe this time when she wakes she'll have an idea of which way to go.

She's tired but more she's tired of standing still.

oOoOoOo

"_Hello, lover." The sultry voice whispered against the back of her neck as a pair of lips moved down to caress and nip at the trio of scars on her neck. The Master's marks were nearly obliterated by Angel's while Dracula's were almost dainty in comparison._

_Turning in his encompassing arms, Buffy looped her arms around his neck as she met those dancing eyes. Angelus always looked like he was either in the middle of or plotting some mayhem. There was a joy in him that was absent in his souled state, without the weight of his misdeeds crushing him. He leaned down and nuzzled his mark on her neck again, this time with a firm bite that was just shy of breaking her skin._

"_Angelus," she sighed as her head fell backwards. "It's been years. Why am I dreaming of you now?"_

"_Things are changing, lover." He breathed in her ear as he ran his strong hands down her lush body. "_You_ are changing. Not the blindly stubborn little girl you used to be. I always knew you would have to be broken before you could become the woman I saw in you. Before you would be comfortable unleashing your power and heeding its call."_

_He leaned back and running his eyes down her matured form gave her one of his patented smirks._

"_But even I never thought those idiot friends of yours would do my work for me…"_

oOoOoOo

His voice was still ringing in her ears as she bolted awake, panting in part arousal and part fear. Sensing a presence in the room with her, she snapped her head around as she gathered the blood-red silk sheets around her, concealing her nude form.

"Well now, pet." Buffy traced that distinctive voice to the far corner of the room, finding the glowing end of his cigarette illuminating his face. "That must've been some dream to get you smellin' like that." He was back to the panty-soaking purr.

Great. Now she has Angelus hitting on her in her dreams and Spike flirting during her waking hours. At this rate if she doesn't get some relief she's going to spontaneously combust like the victims of Sweet's enthrallment.

"Not now, Spike." Weary, her rest not exactly being of the restful variety, she struggled back into her simple jeans and t-shirt she wore to patrol after work. Dropping the sheets at her feet she strode from the room, ignoring the vampire bolting along after her.

"What is it, luv?"

Spike was more worried about her than ever. That job of hers was sucking the life out of her and her friends aren't bein' much better. For that one night last week he saw a glimpse of her old flame and power only harnessed by her will. It seemed to have disappeared with the dawn. She needs to bloody sleep, not keep catching brief moments of rest between nightmares and visions and her so-called life.

"I need to kill something." Reaching the secluded beach that backed up against the Mansion proper, she turned and pinned him with a look. "Short of that, I need a good fight. You up for it?"

A grin split Spike's face. "Thought you'd never ask, sweetheart. No trainin', no rules, just a spot o' violence eh? That's the ticket, pet?"

She gave a short nod as she cracked her neck. Just a spot of violence.

Just something to take away this feeling of dread that Angelus is somehow, someway, coming back.

oOoOoOo

Willow clutched at the cordless phone as she curled up in bed. Everything is wrong. Just _wrong_. And Tara being all holier-than-thou over her magic usage isn't helping things either. Leaving her over one little spell. Pfft.

"Willow, I don't get it." Xander's voice was gruff from him being barely awake. She'd called him at two in the morning to tell him that Buffy isn't home yet. While he understood her concern, he doesn't know what she expects him to do about it. "Buffy's a big girl, she can take care of herself. She probably just needed some time alone."

"No, that's not the point!" Willows frustration carried through the phone clearly. "You're not listening to me! Ever since that singing-curse-thing she's been even more withdrawn than ever. I think something happened or is happening or something…"

Xander cut her off.

"Something did happen, Will." His voice went from gruff to harsh in a nano-second. He's had enough of Willow's uber-drama over Buffy. Time for her to face facts. They're not in high school anymore and it's time Willow realized that. "_You_ happened. You decided to bring Buffy back to life. Yeah, you did it thinking you were "saving" her but all you really did was pull her out of Heaven. If she wants to spend some time _alone_," away from you, "then I think that's not too much to ask. Goodnight Willow."

Xander hung up and tossed the phone back on the nightstand. Anya stroked one hand through his hair, worried about her snuggle-bear.

"She needed to hear that, Xander." Anya said gently, hugging him from behind. "All of you have moved on since high school. Even Buffy, she's not the same bubbly blonde anymore. Willow needs to stop relying on everyone else so much."

"I know, Ahn." Xander took one of her hands and kissed it, turning to face the woman he loves. "But it's still hard for me to say."

"I know." She snuggled up against his chest. "I know."

Willow stared at the now lifeless phone in disbelief. Xander hung up on her. _Xander._ If it was Buffy or Anya or even Giles that would be one thing but _Xander hung up on her._

All she wanted was a little commiseration. A little understanding. But no. This was even worse than when she brought Buffy back. She would've thought _someone_ would've at least said thank you. But no. They were all "Bad Willow." "Selfish Willow." "Amateur Willow." "There's consequences Willow."

It burned.

Lying in bed she chucked the phone against the wall, never mind that the phone didn't actually belong to her.

oOoOoOo

Spike ducked a roundhouse punch to his head only to get caught by a knee to his ribs. Blowing out a breath he dodged around her, eyeing Buffy's sweat-slicked body with appreciation. They haven't danced like this since he got that blood chip in his head. Missed it, he has.

Five minutes passed, then ten, as they traded blows. Dancing around each other, neither really drawing blood or causing any damage. As always it was one of Spike's smartass comments that set her off.

"Feel alive yet, pet?" He licked his upper lip with a leer. "Or ya need a little more of Dr. Spike's tender-loving-care?"

With a wordless shriek she pounced and the next ten minutes were silent except for the sound of flesh crashing against flesh with a force that would cripple or maim less powerful creatures. They danced all around the Mansion's private beach then Buffy made a wild leap only to be caught and held by Spike as the momentum forced them to the ground. Nearly panting, Spike flipped them, pinning Buffy to the sand and shackling her wrists with his hands, using his own hips to leverage her into the ground and keep her from wind milling her legs to get free.

Staring down into her face, beautiful and flushed from the excitement of a fight, he pressed his hips into hers in a whole other manner, relishing the little gasp and accompanying rush of moisture he could sense at his maneuver. With a wicked grin, he let go of her hands, tunneling his cool fingers into her hair and taking her in a powerful, commanding kiss. Moaning helplessly in a way that made his inner demon roar, Buffy grasped the hair at the back of his neck in one hand and the back of his leather duster in the other as she returned his heated kiss with equal fervor.

This is what she's been missing.

This feeling of heat and fire and _life_, instead of the cold, dark, _nothing_ that's been her constant companion since her…rising…except for here, in his arms.

Spike, a Master among the undead, makes the Vampire Slayer feel alive. The irony is not lost on her.

Before she could faint from lack of oxygen, he lifted his head and stared down into her pleasure dazed green eyes.

"We better take this somewhere else, luv." He rasped, too aroused to even pretend that he was unmoved. "Unless you wanna give the neighbors a show?"

"No," Buffy tossed her head as she ground her hips up against his iron-hard arousal. Clenching her hands around him she held him to her. "Here. Now."

Burying his head in the crook of her neck as she worked her hips against him, twining her legs around his hips for better leverage, Spike gave in with a heart-felt groan.

Screw it, then. If the bint wants to get ravished in near-public, he's more than demon enough to see to it and give her a proper seeing to.

Growling, his hands were nearly cruel as they stripped her, her own no less frantic as she ripped and tore his shirt from him only to be stymied when he batted her hands away before she could give his pants similar treatment. Bearing her back against the leather duster he laid out while she was otherwise occupied, he simply undid his jeans and hooking her legs over his arms, slid into her pulsing wet heat without further ado. Groaning at the damp-silk feel of her and purring at her pleasure-ridden shriek, Spike tried to force down his demon as he burrowed his rock-hard member into her folds with rapid strokes.

Buffy moaned at the cool/hot feeling of having him inside her took her over. His flesh itself was cool, a blistering contrast to the volcanic heat he caused in her. Spying the tell-tale amber glow in his eyes, her instincts sucked her under completely as she canted her head to one side, offering up the unmarked expanse of her neck to the demon fucking her brains out. With a soft snarl, Spike dropped fang and buried his fangs in her smooth neck, making both of them go off like a rocket at the intense dual-penetration.

Realizing what he's done only after his fangs parted her silken flesh, Spike took only the barest of sips, just enough to sate his demon before closing the wounds with the most tender of care as they both enjoyed the afterglow of being well-loved, his erection – his constant companion for months it seemed like – finally abating…for the moment.

Pulling himself away from her just long enough to fix his jeans, he reclaimed their clothes before wrapping her still-naked form in his jacket and cuddling her up against his chest, swept her away from the Mansion and off to his crypt at true vampire-speed.

oOoOoOo

Later the next morning after hours of mutual pleasure, just before dawn, Buffy watched her new lover pad back to his four-poster bed in his underground layer, a bottle of water for her and a mug of blood for him held firmly in his hands.

"I know what you did." She said, nearly making the always-graceful trip over his own feet as he shot her a guilty glance.

Handing her the water, Spike joined her under the covers before propping his back against the headboard and pretending an engrossing interest in the contents of his mug.

"Do you then?" He arched a brow at her over the rim of his cup. "Why don't you enlighten me then, pet?"

"You Marked me." She watched out of amused, slumberous eyes as he spluttered. He was probably worried about being on the receiving end of an extreme – and painful – retaliation from her. Which was tempting. After all it wasn't like he _asked_ her or anything. He just…bit. And with intent too, otherwise the bite mark would already be gone thanks to her Slayer healing. That it was sticking around meant one thing – a Marking with a capital M.

"Did I now, pet?" Agitated, Spike set aside the now-empty cup and lit up a fag. _How am I going to get myself out of this blood mess?_ He just got the bint where he wanted her and now because he can't keep his sodding demon under control she's likely as not to run screamin' away from 'im.

"You know you did, Spike." Rolling her eyes at him she tossed the empty bottle away and rolled onto her side to face him, ignoring that the movement bared must of her front and all of her side to his rapidly-heating gaze. "I'm just wondering how long it would've taken you to tell me about it if I didn't already know?"

"A good long while." Blowing out a breath, he crushed out the smoke and rolled to face her, cupping her face in one hand. "Didn't want you to do a scarper on me, now did I luv?"

"I egged you on every step of the way, Spike." Holding his hand against her face, she turned until she could place a soft kiss on his palm. "I told you to keep going. I ripped your shirts off. _I _bared my neck to a Master vampire. I knew what I was getting into."

"And why did you do all that then, pet?" He countered, not quite believing the turn his unlife has taken over the past six hours. "Why'd you let me kiss ya, fuck ya, an' Mark ya?"

Sighing she gave him the gentlest of kisses, barely a brush of lips before staring into those hopeful – but cautious – cornflower blue eyes.

"Because in the middle of the crazy, you've been there. You – somehow – " she gave a little laugh, not quite knowing when it happened herself. "Have become the one person I can count on no matter what. You're the one I trusted to take care of Dawn. You're the one I told about where I was when I was…gone. You're the only one that's been here and there and everywhere for no other reason than that you love me. Why wouldn't I want you to kiss me," she gave him another, deeper kiss. "Fuck me," she pressed her belly against his burgeoning arousal. "Or Mark me?"

Swallowing hard, Spike beat back that bloody sentimental fool William who wanted to start spouting bloody poetry.

"Are you…" He trailed off a moment as he became distracted by what her clever little fingers had started doing with his hardened flesh. "Are you sayin' you'll be me Mate then, love?"

"I'm saying…" She trailed kisses down his sculpted chest before casting a witchy look up at him from where she hovered over his weeping arousal. "That I'm giving us a chance. A chance to be happy and kick ass, and try. I'm not saying yes." She made him gasp from a sudden swipe of her tongue. "But I'm not saying no either."

Before her hot little mouth made him completely lose his wits, he gasped:

"Fair 'nough, love."

oOoOoOo

A few days after Buffy and Spike decided to give having a – gasp – adult relationship a shot, they were play-sparring in the Mansion's ballroom, Spike having hunted and chased the Slayer all through the massive house.

Although she was shrieking with laughter, Spike still saw a shadow hovering at the edges of her eyes. Deciding on a course of action, he suddenly swept her up in his arms, tickling her until she was nearly boneless.

"Give!" She squealed helplessly. "I give!"

"Knew you would, love." Spike looked down into her happy, shining face with a self-satisfied smirk. Dropping her back onto her feet, he held her in a loose embrace as he sobered.

"What is it?"

"Are you happy then, sweetheart?" He asked her seriously. He knows that some of the darkness that's been haunting her has lightened but it wasn't entirely gone. They still went out and hunted beasties every night, and most nights she'll wake up panting from one nightmare or another. Those friends of hers haven't been helping either. Red's on a sure path for megalomania with her magic bit and the whelp is as self-absorbed as ever. Only the Niblet's been supportive of her sister spending so much time with 'im. But then the Bit's rather biased in his favor anyways.

"I'm worried." She admitted after a long moment, nibbling at her lower lip. Wrapping her arms around him she snuggled into his chest. "Things have been going _so well_ after we found the Scythe and then our…" She looked up at him with a naughty grin. "I just can't help but feel like something is coming, this great evil or whatever."

"You're waitin' on the other shoe to drop." He said, giving her a squeeze from his leanly muscled arms. "You're not used to bein' happy anymore is all, love. You'll get there, promise."

"Yeah," she said, resting her head on his chest. "I think that's a big part of it. The last time I was this happy…"

"Your boyfriend spent months terrorizing your friends and family." Spike finished for her knowing exactly where her mind was. "I'm not Angelus, pet. I'm not a cursed-souled-poof. 'M not gonna up and decide to go all torturer on ya one day cause I got too happy, love."

"It's Angelus I'm worried about." She whispered, lifting her gaze to his. "I've been having dreams…"

"Dreams about the Great Wanker or Peaches the Giant Poofter?" Spike needed her to clarify. Angel having a hissy fit over their budding relationship is one thing, Angelus going feral over his Childe claiming his Mate is something else entirely. Like needing to know if he should bring an umbrella or build an arc.

"Both at first," she continued in a whisper as he rocked her back and forth in his arms. "Only Angelus now."

"You afraid he's this great evil, love?" He tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

"No." She said at once to his surprise. "I don't. Angelus for all that he went totally psycho last time he came out to play isn't usually trying to end the world. He likes playing in it too much for that. After dealing with the Initiative I'm more concerned about where we stand if a human evil comes knocking than a Big Bad Wannabe."

He smirked over her calling basically calling Angelus a lesser-Spike before the import of her words smacked him upside the head.

"You mean cause of this bloody chip in me head, don't you?"

She stared at his shirt, one finger chipping at a button with her nail.

"If I said I had a lead on how to get it out…"

"Aren't you worried about unleashing evil-soulless-me on the populous?" He gave her a cynical look, thinking of all the insults she's shot at him over the years.

"As long as you don't go on a bender of innocents I could care less about what you do to the general population." She said, voice hard. "One thing I have learned over the years of being the Slayer is that being human doesn't make some people any less of a monster than what goes bump in the night. And that sometimes monsters have more love and heart than a lot of men."

"Well I'll be buggered." Spike gave her a smacking kiss before whirling her around in a hug. "At long last a Slayer that isn't completely brainless."

"Spike." She complained giving him a hard smack on the chest over his teasing. "I'm serious."

"So'm I, sweetheart." He gave her another kiss. "White hats tend to be bloody blind and deaf when it comes to more neutral points-a view."

"I think we've covered whether I'm a white hat or not." She rolled her eyes. "Shade of grey, here. Now do you want the damn chip out or not?"

"Fire away, love."

"I need to make a call to someone named Dr. Ludwig…"


	5. Mating Marks

**Fade Into You**

_Disclaimer: Not mine…_

_A/N: A little bit of possible X-Over set-up here in the first part of this chapter because I don't want to completely take that out of the question for maybe a one-shot story or something after this fic is done…and because it helps explain why/how Dr. Ludwig would even agree to operate on Spike in the first place and how/why Buffy knew about her._

**Mating Marks**

Buffy stared down into Spike's face, so sweet and innocent in his unnatural sleep. Dr. Ludwig turned out to possess the supernatural equivalent of elephant tranqs for knocking-out vampires. The ornery little woman-ish…creature had thoroughly grilled Buffy about the demonic vampires she dealt with before giving her the lowdown on the blood-magic type the doctor often treated. The similarities weren't nearly as fascinating as the differences, silver vs. holy relics etc. Willy's family owned chain of supe bars really were an excellent resource if you knew who to use them.

Like say if you're an errant Slayer that just got expelled from Heaven by her friends and the one person she wanted comfort from was too busy going on and on about Cordelia of all people to give a damn and you need to go on "walkabout" for a couple days. She really did go to LA like she told Willow and the others…it just wasn't in California.

Stroking one hand across Spike's smooth, untroubled brow, she wondered if her vampire would like Louisiana? She'd had a veritably magical time in NOLA…it'd be nice to visit with Spike there to enjoy the atmosphere and hunt with her.

Dr. Ludwig came highly recommended – and as promised was highly expensive. Good thing she never told the Scoobies about where she kept the other relics from the tomb that once held the Gem of Amara. The way they ran through the life insurance money from herself and her mom, she didn't even want to think about what they would've done with _that_ literal treasure-trove. A gold bar or two and the little woman was knocking Spike out and digging in his skull.

Which contrary to common opinion wasn't made of nothing but solid rock.

The doctor was gone now, teleporting out as soon as the surgery was completed with the chip successfully removed and the incision site closed. Once the creature was gone Buffy cut a little slice on her index finger and rubbed her blood over the wound, making the exterior damage heal before her eyes. She might trust the doctor's professionalism and confidentiality – in theory – but she wasn't about to risk her finding out about the effect Slayer blood has on vampires.

Now all Spike has to do is wake up and take his "medicine" from her and the lingering worry that's plaguing her will go far, far away.

He has to wake up.

Has to.

She can't – won't – deal with any other outcome.

And agreement or not…

If Spike doesn't wake up there won't be a place in this dimension or any other that that little gnomey-woman will be able to hide _from her_.

In all the recorded history of the Slayers, none has ever taken a Mate and been Marked.

Never.

And as she has found out…for good reason.

Vampires are dangerous. Slayers even more so. The only thing that protects the "innocents" of the world from Slayers is the Slayer code. Kill evil, protect the innocent, save the world, yada yada yada. Buffy isn't bound by that code anymore. The only thing she follows anymore is her own heart and mind.

Her heart isn't her own anymore.

It's his.

And if he doesn't wake up, there will be nothing to save this world from the ocean of blood she will unleash upon it.

Watching him in his unnatural sleep, she can finally admit it.

She loves him.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is in love with William the Bloody.

God help them all.

They're going to need it.

oOoOoOo

"_William, me boy." Angelus shook his head in mock-disappointment at the lean figure hanging from shackles on the dungeon wall. "I thought I taught you better, dear William."_

"_Angelus." Spike groaned opening his bruise-swollen eyes. "Figured I'd dream of you after that daft bint put me under."_

"_Ah not sweet William after all." The angelic face smirked at him as his eyes flashed amber-gold. "I'd begun to wonder, boyo. What with you sniffing after me Slayer." Angelus's voice was thick with the flavor of his native Ireland, a tell-tale sign that he was about to unleash bloody-hell on his latest victim._

_Spike smirked in turn, ignoring the twinges it caused as he felt every bruise this apparition had apparently pounded into his face._

"_Not yours any more, Sire." He sneered. "Your 'better half' right bollocksed you up there, mate. Abandoned your claim he did when 'e woke from 'is delirium. Drac knew it, bloody hell, _everyone_, knew that Peaches left 'is mate high an' dry. No one to blame for my claim on the Slayer but your own fucking soul."_

"_But William," Angelus mock-pouted at his Childe. "Me soul won't be about for me to punish once I wake. And I will wake. Sooner or later I always get what I want…"_

oOoOoOo

He came awake to the best – or worst – bloody vision a vampire ever could see above him. His very own Slayer-nursemaid pettin' his forehead and watching him with loving eyes. Yeah, the Great Wanker can take a bloody fucking hike. For all his threats and warnings, he doesn't have a bleedin' leg to stand on when it comes to Spike's girl.

Soul or no soul, she was forsaken.

Any vampire could've claimed her. Drac sure as hell tried with 'is thrall an' all.

She's his now and he's never lettin' his Mate go.

Never.

Angelus can go bugger 'imself if 'e thinks he's gonna take 'er from 'im.

The Poof.

Buffy leaned down, baring her neck in a wordless command.

Grasping her by the nape of her neck, Spike went into his game face before biting down on his Mark, tapping her vein and drinking her down. No hesitation or discretion this time, just pure lust to possess her – all of her – including her rich, powerful blood. Anything to strengthen his claim.

Moaning, she arched her back forcing her body into sharp contact with his own. Letting her head fall back, she held onto him as she ground her aching clit onto his denim-covered leg, her hair brushing the bed as he continued to drink. With a groan, Spike pulled back licking the gash in her neck closed and sending another streak of heat through her already fevered system.

Impatient, he grabbed her hips and repositioned her, opening her legs until she straddled his lap completely. Biting her again, this time with his blunt human teeth, Spike growled a word, sending them both over the edge.

"_Mine."_

"Yours," she gasped as she tumbled into ecstasy. "Always yours."

oOoOoOo

"We need to go to the Magic Box." Buffy said, breaking the euphoric aftermath of completing their Mating. Lifting her head from its resting place on Spike's motionless chest she stared down at the vampire who just cracked an eye open bad-temperedly.

Sighing she get up from his bed and threw on her clothes, a simple pair of black leather pants, combat boots, and a blood-red turtleneck halter top that covered her Marks. Too many times she's had fangs buried in her neck and only half the time it was with her consent. She isn't ashamed of her mating marks…but she isn't proud of the history that mars her otherwise unblemished skin.

She was willing to die at the Master's hands.

And she did.

She was willing to die to save Angel.

Then he left.

Dracula put her under thrall to seduce her.

Only to be undone once she tasted his blood in turn.

The one mark she doesn't regret is Spike's.

And it's the one that isn't concealed by her top.

The one mark she's proud to bear made by the vampire she's proud to call her mate. Her inner-demon nearly purrs with every stroke of his hand and become delirious with pleasure when he buries his fangs in her neck, wanting to taste his blood in turn. A step she isn't quite reconciled with. She's adjusting to having a real, live demon in her…but there's still things…urges…she isn't comfortable with yet.

Blood play between mates being one of them.

Although tying Spike to their bed sounds like fun…or maybe handcuffs…

"Why're we meetin' the Scoobies then?" Spike asked as he pulled on his black jeans with a black T-shirt and his boots. "We're new mates and I just had me bloody head operated on, love. All we should be doin' is lolling about in bed."

Sending him a wistful glance over her shoulder she climbed up to the upper level of the crypt as he leered at the nice view of her ass she gave him in the process.

"Because if I keep avoiding them they're going to think something's up."

"I'd say that's an understatement of the situation, pet." Spike arched a brow as he joined her beside the sarcophagus. Moving to her side he entwined their hands as they ventured out into the night. He noticed something about her left hand as it was encompassed by his. "When did you stop wearing your ring, sweetheart?"

His voice was soft with understanding as he asked her the question. She got the undertones. What he really wanted to know was when she stopped considering herself Angel's property. After she left the ring at the Mansion and then recovered it upon Angel's return from his hell dimension she started wearing a plain silver band that covered her entire knuckle. A simple thing that had a world of meaning.

"When I had the first vision." She said as they neared the center of town, their walk having been silent as Spike waited patiently for her to answer his question. "When I found out how little value he placed on us."

_When I found out how much one choice of his – made without any consultation or discussion – changed both our lives forever. When I found out the price of his arrogance._

Spike gave her hand a comforting squeeze, somehow knowing in that way he has that there was more to it than that but being willing to wait for her to tell him. Their mating being confirmed gave him a security about his place in her heart, bed, and life that allowed him a certain magnanimous attitude towards her former relationship with his Sire. He could afford to be patient and gracious.

He won.

The Poof lost.

Life – or rather undeath – is good.

Grabbing the door handle, he held it open for his lady, the gentleman that he once was rising to the fore with all the loyalty and devotion that he's always lavished on the female of…well…any species. He adores his womenfolk whether their human, demon, Slayer, or in the case of the Bit a "green glowing ball of power." His womenfolk are his womenfolk and are there for him to protect and adore.

Even if that makes him a bit too close to being a poofy ponce like Peaches…well…he'll bloody well deal with it. He can still enjoy a good slaughter or a bit of violence, he just likes having a soft, sweet-smelling Slayer to come home to.

Even better if that spot of violence includes watching her kick ass.

"What's Captain Peroxide doing here?" Xander asked absently as he munched on the contents of one of the several pizza boxes on the table.

Spike growled, his eyes flashing amber.

"What you gonna do?" Xander scoffed, ignoring the cautioning look from Buffy. "You can't touch me, fang boy. You're just a toothless, shock-collared puppy."

Groaning, Buffy buried her head in her hands as Spike vamped across the room. He's dealt with Xander and his bullshit for the last couple years nonstop. Her friend really should've stopped while he was ahead. It wasn't like Spike didn't warn him with that growl. Xander was just too complacent to know when to quit while he's ahead.

Grabbing Xander by the front of his shirt, Spike grinned as he lifted him off the ground and gave him a little shake. Xander felt himself turning purple as his air supply was cut off.

"What…" He gasped as Spike failed to fall to the ground in pain. What the fuck was going on? Did the chip fail?

Willow and Anya shouted questions at Buffy and Spike as the vampire held the struggling male in his iron-grip for a moment longer before launching him across the room like a Frisbee. Buffy just rolled her eyes and helped herself to some pizza while the other women including Dawn rushed to Xander's side, cooing over the slightly brainless carpenter.

"Spikey's not toothless anymore." The vampire growled, flashing his game-face at them before returning to his human mask and settling down next to his mate, reclaiming her hand. "This puppy went to a new vet and got his collar taken out."

"Buffy," Xander gasped, sitting up with effort as he felt woozy from both being held without air and from hitting his head after Spike tossed him. "Stake him."

"No."

The others watched her bug-eyed as with that idle refusal from the Slayer as she shot Spike a look from under her lashes and went back to her pizza. Spike just gave her a wink and grabbed a slice for himself, watching out of the corner of his eye to make sure no one suddenly found their balls and tried to stake him for themselves.

"What do you mean no?" Willow asked incredulously. "He just hurt Xander, he's chip-less, he's dangerous."

"So are you, Red." Spike shot her a nasty look. "Don't see anyone demanding your 'ead on a platter."

"That's ridiculous." Xander spluttered. "Will's nothing like the evil soulless undead eating my pizza."

"I think Tara would disagree." Buffy said, her voice and eyes ice-cold as she watched her long-time friends regrouping. Dawn looked back and forth between the two groups before edging over to stand on the other side of Spike, putting the vampire between herself and the rest of the Scoobies.

"What do you mean, Buffy?" Anya just canted her head to one side as she held a cloth to her fiance's head. Her voice was as detached as always with only a hint of curiosity.

"Yes, what do you mean Buffy?" Willow asked as her eyes flashed black a moment.

"Well…" Buffy drawled the word smirking a moment at Spike before she turned to face her friends, ignoring their gasps as they caught sight of the fresh mark on her neck. "You did a spell on Tara to make her forget that she wanted to cool things off with you while you were abusing magic…right?"

Buffy arched a brow as she waited for Willow to answer, which she did with her usual impatience.

"So what?"

"And then you had sex with her right?"

"And?"

"You raped her." Buffy delivered the coup with a nonchalance worthy of Angelus. Spike eyed his mate for a moment, recognizing the delivery.

_She learned more than how to deal with mind-games while the Wanker was walking around._ He realized. She learned to play them as well. Likely how she was able to beat the arsehole.

Slayer-demon-essence indeed. She could learn any weapon. Only know he knew that wasn't restricted to those weapons one can actually touch.

"What?! Buffy how can you saw that to Willow?!" Xander demanded, incredulous that she could accuse Willow of such a thing. She's…she's Willow.

Willow's eyes were the size of dinner-plates as she searched Buffy's face for the slightest hint of something, _any_thing that would lessen or somehow contradict what the blonde said. There was nothing. Buffy's face was just…blank. Like she was discussing the weather instead of a massive violation of trust.

Tears filled the red-head's eyes as she gave a keening moan before rushing out of the shop, covering her crying eyes with her hands as she went.

"That was harsh, pet." Spike's soft voice cut through the tense silence of the shop following Willow's abrupt departure.

"Yes," Buffy looked into his eyes, showing him just how much doing what she just did cost her. "But it was necessary."

"How was that necessary?" Xander's voice was quietly furious at her behavior.

"Buffy's right." For the first time Dawn spoke. "We've all been falling apart, little by little. Especially Willow. Someone needed to make her take a hard look at herself before she hurt anyone for real."

"Willow wouldn't hurt anyone." The carpenter continued to insist as Anya tended to him. "She couldn't, _she's_ not evil."

"You don't have to be evil to hurt someone." Buffy said quietly, turning her head to look at the dark-haired man. "Everyone is capable of hurting someone. Willow just has more power than most. If she let herself start down that path…she's already tiptoeing in that direction. She could get into something a lot worse than a memory spell. Hopefully now she won't."

Spike lifted her hand and gave her a kiss on her knuckles as the shop phone rang. Dawn hurried over to answer it, her head spinning from the heaviness that's swamped the room. She's just a kid for all that she's an immortal key-thing. She'll think about all of this stuff later. Right now all she wants to think about is this new development between Buffy and Spike that's flown right under the radar with all the other drama. And what it means for her.

"Hello, Magic Box." She chirped.

"Ah yes," Wesley tugged on his collar. "Is Buffy available?"

"Let me see." Turning to her sister she covered the phone's mouthpiece. "For you, some English dude."

"Giles?" Buffy cocked her head to one side.

"Nah, not stuffy enough." Spike chuckled at the Niblet's answer.

Intrigued Buffy took the phone.

"This is Buffy."

"Buffy, excellent." Wesley breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted to have to do was drive down to Sunnydale while Angelus is locked up in the basement.

"Wesley?"

"I'm afraid we have something of a situation…"

oOoOoOo

Buffy stared at the now-dead phone as she hung it back on the cradle. Turning she faced the implacable face of her mate.

"You know." She whispered, knowing he heard the whole conversation she just had with the former-Watcher. "There's some times I just hate being right…"

oOoOoOo

"Wesley me boy." Angelus greeted the man with false cheer as he came down the stairs. "How's that delicious little thing…Fred was it? Could smell the tension there…"

Wesley just gave him a haughty look as he kept well clear of the white "safe" zone line. They'd marked three zones on the concrete floor. White "safe", yellow "warning", and red "danger" zones for dealing with this…creature.

"I want my Slayer, Wesley." Angelus's voice was chilling when paired with the playful smirk on his mouth. "Where's my Slayer? Aren't you Watchers supposed to be able to control your Slayers? Oh that's right…" His tone was pure mocking now. "You're a failure as a Slayer. Couldn't even pretend to control my Buffy and that Faith…" He tsked. "A murderess. Such a proud legacy for your family's Watcher dynasty."

Angelus always did know where to turn the knife, preferring to use the truth to wound than any pretty lie. The pain is so much more exquisite that way. A veritable feast for his senses.

"She's coming." Was all he could say.

What else could he say?

All Wesley felt was shame but not for the reasons Angelus would think. For how he treated Buffy after he found out about her inability to kill Angelus. How was any seventeen year old girl supposed to face off against this creature? Especially when it wears the face of her first love? That she finally after months of his torment sent him to hell was nothing short of miraculous.

"Oh goody." The demon grinned, holding his arms behind his head. "I can't wait to see her. So much for use to talk about, you know."

"She's not the child you tormented." Wesley commented as he turned to leave. "Not anymore." Not for a long time.

"Wesley, Wesley." Angelus shook his head with a mocking sigh. "I am always here. Always watching. I know what Buffy has become."

"No you don't." The disgraced Watcher whispered almost too low for the vampire to hear. "Because Angel hasn't the foggiest notion of who she is. Not anymore. You don't have the slightest clue of who Buffy is. Not anymore."


	6. Sing For Me, Lover

**Fade Into You**

_A/N: Ok so I need to clear something up. I DO like Angel as a character, I even like him as a match for Buffy. What I don't like is his constant habit of making decisions that affect more than himself and his constantly getting pissed off when Buffy moves on while he runs around having a kid with Darla and getting infatuated with Cordelia, etc. I think Joss did a hatchet-job on the original character in order to cash in on the spin-off series and make it interesting. BUT I also firmly believe that as long as Buffy still has a lingering attachment to Angel her personality would never allow her to fall for Angelus, it would be in direct conflict with her moral code. So I had to give her a couple good reasons to sever that connection, one big one that I haven't gotten into yet but that she's going to talk about with Angelus and Spike soon._

_On with the story!_

**Sing For Me, Lover**

The sound of footsteps roused Angelus from his waking dreams. Opening his eyes as he laid flat out on the concrete floor with his hands behind his head, he turned to face the door leading down to his basement cell. Over the last day since they locked his body in this cell before removing the soul, only Wesley has braved the demon in their midst. Not even Angel's whelp has come to goggle at the monster in its cage.

These steps were lighter – but furtive.

Someone doesn't want to be caught talking to him.

As the door opened Angelus found himself rather underwhelmed. Damn and he was hoping for a surprise to relieve his boredom until his Slayer gets here. Although he did arch a brow as the rather cubby brunette unplugged the camera before walking into its range.

"You've really let yourself go, lass." Angelus drawled, taking in Cordelia's shorn hair and heavy figure. "I doona see what me soul was thinkin' keepin' you around."

"Oh shut up, Angelus." Cordy snapped as she stepped up to the white line. "I'm here to make you a deal."

Sitting up in an absent flex of muscle, the demon eyed her. Surely the woman knew that the ex-Watcher already made a deal with the devil as it were. What could she possibly have to offer him that he would be interested in? Cocking his head to one side as heard the faintest clicking of heels coming this way as a wicked grin flashed across his face, a grin that the creature before him completely misinterpreted.

"Are ya, now? Well that's interesting." And completely predictable. "What are you here to bribe me with to cooperate? A bright new car? I've heard the new Mustangs are a thing of beauty." He flashed a smirk as he heard the steps pause just outside the door…

oOoOoOo

Gunn looked up from polishing his favorite knife as the doors to the hotel blew open at the sudden entrance of a pair of blondes.

"Can I help…?" He trailed off as the duo completely ignored him, the woman turning to the man and looking up at him.

"Where is he?" She asked her companion.

The tall, lean male in the leather jacket gave a suspicious sniff before jerking his head towards the door to the basement – and Angelus's cell. Acting like none of the AI team existed, Buffy strode for the door as Spike dropped the bag in his hand on the floor and dropped down into one of the chairs in the lobby, sprawling out with his usual lack of concern.

Wes saw their less-than-lowkey arrival and moved into the lobby to intercept them.

"Buffy," he greeted her, flashing a look of contempt towards her vampiric companion. William the Bloody. Marvelous. Because they don't have enough crazed vampires from the Order of Aurelious running around L.A. these days. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"You call, I come, I slay." She said after a moment, giving him an indecipherable look from her bright green eyes. "Whose idea was it to unleash one of the most vicious and powerful vampires _ever_ upon the world?" She needed to know who to slap first.

"Well," Wes pinched the bridge of his nose. "It was a group decision, as such."

"Oh goody." She said giving a now-scathing glance at the team that has steadily gathered in the lobby. "Well then, feel free to share this with them."

With a resounding "smack!" she backhanded him, making his head turn to the side as he nearly stumbled with the force of the blow. The AI team moved to attack only to be held up at a gesture from Wes. Spike remained spectacularly unconcerned about all the by-play. All he wants to know is what beastie they need to hunt and kill so he can take his mate back to their lair.

"No." Wes shook his head, one hand rotating his jaw to ensure it was still attached. "I rather deserved that."

"Yes." Buffy said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. "You did. Unleashing Angelus, _for any reason_, is a bad idea." Her voice softened, sending chills up the backs of the AI team. "You weren't there, Wesley. For all your studying and research and the time you've spent with Angel, you weren't there. You've never dealt with Angelus. That Angel would _agree_ to this is what really confuses me."

Turning her back on Angel's team, Buffy strode onwards towards her nemesis wearing the face of the man who used to own her heart.

She'd planned carefully for this confrontation. The subtext of her conversation with Wesley was easy for anyone to read. They don't know Angelus. But she does. And she's used what she knows to prepare herself.

That included what she wore since as surely as he's a demon, he still appreciates a beautiful woman. It was a part of his essential self that carried over from his human lifetime. Angelus has the refined palate of an artist. And this is one time where Buffy has no problem playing up to it.

Taking of her leather jacket, she tossed it to her mate and strode from the room, leaving the others speechless in her wake.

Her hair and makeup had been done with a deft hand, playing up her more mature beauty versus the ingénue that Angelus fought years ago. Blonde locks spilled in a wild tumble down her back, as if they've been tussled by a lover's hands. Her eyes were done up in smoke greys while her lips were a rich red. Blood red silk covering her body. Red leather high-heeled sandals covered her feet and exposed matching red-tipped toes. Her dress was modest enough in the neckline by barely exposing her collarbones but lost all pretensions at modesty when it screaming to a stop at barely below her ass while her entire back was almost exposed by the dress's deep v.

But the coup de grace was her necklace.

A gift from Angelus himself – which made Spike snarl when she finally showed him what was in the velvet wrapped bundle in the chest – it was a choker-collar of white gold and stunning red diamonds. Over two inches high, it banded across her neck in a luxurious display of wealth – and ownership.

Spike is her Mate and it chafed at him to have her wear something that smacks of another's claim on her. But in this situation it can't be helped. This Beast demon has blocked out the sun and only Angelus seems to have any information. Her chances of actually getting it from him will be a lot better if she plays to his vanity.

To that end she also has the dagger he left her strapped to one thigh.

Her Scythe she left with her Mate, hidden beneath his jacket. No one knows as yet of her possession of the weapon and that's how she'd like it to stay.

Hearing voices, Buffy came to a stop before the door separating her from the creature that still haunts her. Cocking her head she listened a moment.

"…No, something better."

Buffy arched a brow. What the hell was Cordy doing down there talking to Angelus?

Angelus scoffed, shaking his head. "What's a better ride than a new Mustang?"

"Me."

Opening the door Buffy couldn't hold in her giggles as she came down the stairs, instantly gaining two sets of eyes watching her upon her entrance.

"Wow, Cordy." She laughed, shaking her head as she locked eyes with Angelus. "Desperate much? Must be all that extra weight you've put on recently…"

"Shut up, Ms. Slays-A-Lot." Cordelia snapped, enraged by the woman's inopportune timing. "I'll have you know Angel loves _me_ now."

"Really?" She asked Angelus skeptically, arching a brow.

"No accounting for taste, lover." He answered with a shrug as he climbed to his feet and sauntered over to the bars. With a wicked smirk as grasped them in his large hands, casting his eyes up and down her silk-clad form. My, my. His little Mate sure has grown. "Personally I prefer dangerous blondes, meself."

Tossing her head, Buffy gave him a wicked grin of her own, catching her tongue between her teeth in a gesture stolen from Spike. Recognizing it, Angelus gave a little growl.

"See," Cordy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "No need for," eyeing Buffy's clothes in distaste, "Slutty the Vampire Layer here."

"Oh, I wouldna say that Cordy, lass." Angelus interrupted her with a pouting look. "_Angel_ may be infatuated with you, but _I_ only want me Slayer." Turning to face his favorite blonde, he gave her a charming smile. "I see you got my presents, lover."

Running one hand across the necklace so Cordy knew _exactly_ what Angelus was talking about Buffy watching in undisguised glee as Queen C stormed from the room. Waiting for the pounding footsteps to retreat, the vampire and the Slayer watched each other warily. Once she was sure of being alone, Buffy collapsed in giggles against the wall as Angelus watched her in amusement.

"I've wanted to put her in her place for sooo long." She finally said as she caught her breath, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Glad to be of…service, lover." Angelus said his voice ripe with seductive intent as he watched her saunter closer. The little cheerleader is long gone. This Buffy is a whole new creature, one that if possible fascinates him even more than her formerly-naive self.

Buffy just arched a brow.

"You demanded my presence before you would tell them what they want to know about this demon." She spread her arms in a wordless "here I am" gesture. "What is it you want in exchange for your assistance?"

"Do you really have to ask, lover?"

"Besides your freedom." She said immediately, a faint hint of regret coursing through her. _Regret_? _Why would I ever regret not letting this monster out of his cage?_ _What is going on with me since I came back?_ Before she could panic over her conflicting thoughts and emotions, he spoke again.

Angelus gripped the iron bars of his cage until his knuckles whitened. There was something off about her. Something has changed since the soul saw her last. Whatever it was it went far deeper than her return to the living. Inhaling deeply he stared at her eyes, a little smirk playing across his mouth as rage sparked in his eyes.

"Someone's been a bad, bad girl, lover." His voice was deceptively calm. "And someone's been a _very_ bad Childe."

Fear trickled along her back at his words. Fucker. He knew. Somehow he knew.

"Whatever we've been," she said at last, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still frightens her. Although the effect now is radically different than it was before. Her reaction to Angelus now was entirely feminine and primal, she knew he wouldn't hurt her…much…but he wouldn't hesitate to punish her for what he obviously saw as a major infraction. Before she would've been scared for her life and running for the door. "It's none of your affair. Not anymore."

With a curse he punched the iron bars in front of him, making them rattle.

"You're my Mate!" He roared. "And you gave yourself to that whelp! I'll gut him and hang him from the rafters and you…"

"_He's_ my Mate." She strode right up to the red "danger" zone and stared him down, her green eyes flashing silver for a moment, making him pause in his rant. "_Spike_ is my Mate now. Not you. Not anymore."

"What?!" The group at the door exclaimed in unison, the presence of the majority of the AI team going unnoticed by the combative duo. Only Lorne and Fred had remained abovestairs to keep an eye on Spike while Connor was out and about somewhere.

Wesley eyed the pair, seeing for himself for the first time just how volatile the combination of the Slayer and Angelus was. Cordelia was still seething over the dismissal from Angelus and plotting how to use this information against the blonde once Angel was back. Gunn was just skeeved out over how the pretty woman could fuck not one but _two_ vampires.

"Is this true, Buffy?" Wes demanded, ignoring the growl from Angelus over his disrespect to his Mate.

_His_ Mate no matter what fucking shit the soul pulled or what bonds have been formed in his absence. She's still his fucking Mate. No matter what, she always will be. He wants no other. That silver flash in her eyes was very interesting though. He wondered if either Buffy's Scoobies or the soul's team knew that the Slayer was part demon?

"Yes, lover." He mocked Wes. "Is it true that you're a dirty, dirty Mate who needs to be punished?"

Buffy just rolled her eyes and brushed past the gathered group and out of the basement.

"I came, he saw me." She said as she strode from the room. "He's your problem now."

oOoOoOo

When the AI team came up from the basement, Gunn left immediately after grabbing Fred to go investigate the Svea Priestesses that Angelus told them about after much mocking and disdain from the vampire. Some of the things that creature said about his Fred… Gunn shook his head. He didn't know how the little blonde had survived dealing with that mouth for months the first time Angelus slipped his collar.

Cordelia simply stormed off upstairs, infuriated all over again by Angelus's constant scathing remarks.

Rubbing his forehead, Wes moved over to the trio that was seated comfortably in the lobby. As he sat, a look from Buffy sent Spike off into the hotel.

Her mate had better things to do than play nice with her former Watcher, this entire situation stunk to high heaven and while the others were busy there wasn't going to be a better time for Spike to do a little digging into this group's dirty laundry as it were. Hopefully all he'll find is that Wes and Cordy were carrying on an illicit affair but Buffy rather doubted that whatever secrets this crew was keeping close would be that benign.

"We have a problem." Wes stated bluntly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "As you've Mated with Spike, a soulless vampire, it makes it difficult if not impossible to trust the pair of you." _Especially with Angelus still claiming that she's his Mate _and_ Spike being Angelus's Childe._

"But you need me, and my soulless vampire mate," she said the last bitterly. "For this fight you've got going on. You're out-classed and out-gunned. And that was before you let Angelus out to play."

"Precisely." Wes heaved a heavy breath. Her summary of the situation was apt enough. "We need to be able to trust you Buffy."

Sighing, she crossed her legs and leaned back against the couch she was sitting on, eyeing the green demon that had spent the last half-hour sipping a Sea Breeze and chatting gregariously with Spike.

"I suppose that's where you come in?" She shot Lorne a look.

"You bet, my little strudel." Lorne toasted her with his drink. "A little ditty from you and I can set everyone's mind at ease."

oOoOoOo

Speeding silently through the hotel, Spike searched for the faint presence he felt pinging in the back of his mind. Contrary to what Peaches' people obviously thought, he and his Mate didn't just walk into this situation blind. As soon as they heard from Wes that they'd released the soul from Angelus, the two of them came up with a rough plan. His little Mate was pulling off her part superbly, keeping everyone off balance with her beautiful bitch routine and throwing Angelus for a loop with her mating another vampire.

Now it was his turn to go to work.

They need the soul in their possession.

Spike had already sussed out that it wasn't in Peaches' safe like it was supposed to be. Someone among the group was playing a deep game of their own. The only real question was who. As he got closer to the captive soul – that buggering irritating presence that's crawling around and getting on his damned nerves – Spike smiled.

There was only two scents prevalent in this corner of the hotel.

One was the great poof himself and the other…the poofter's little cheerleader.

_Cordy, Cordy, Cordy._ Spike tsked in his head as he entered the empty room. Following his instincts, he flipped up the blankets that covered the bed and peered into the space below the frame. As he picked up the glowing orb, sturdier than an Orb of Thessula, Spike shook his head with a sigh. _And Angelus said Buffy's been a bad girl…_

oOoOoOo

"That's nice in theory." Buffy sighed after Lorne and Wes described how the green demon's powers work. "But there's a problem."

"What?" Wes asked shortly.

"Mates." She said quietly, eyes focused on some distant point not visible to the other men…ish people. "Mates are bound to each other completely. I don't think Lorne will be able to get any kind of clear read on either me or Spike."

"Do a duet then, sugar plum." Lorne shrugged, sipping at his drink. "You and Spikey-poo's aura will mix and mingle and I can get a read that-a way."

"What's this then?" Spike asked, coming to stand behind his Mate and dropping one hand on her shoulder, the orb safely hidden away in a secret compartment in the DeSoto. "You wouldn't happen to be tryin' to make us burn, are ya?"

"Had a run-in with a red demon?" Lorne asked, casting them a surprised look. Sweet usually didn't leave survivors. "Kinda like a demonic Fred Astair?"

Buffy just cringed as Spike told the others about their run-in with the singing-cursing demon butthead.

Lorne shook his head, so much talent in Sweet but always with the child-bride thing. Pedofilia isn't a good look, not even for a demon.

Wes caught Spike up on Lorne's powers, casting an impatient look at his wrist-watch. They didn't have time for this.

Sharing a resigned glance Buffy and Spike knew instinctively what they would sing for the demon.

"_I touch the fire and it freezes me…"_

"_I died so many years ago…"_

"_I look into it and it's black, this isn't real…"_

"_But you can make me feel." _They finished together, daring Lorne to speak out of turn about them and their relationship.

The green demon gulped, catching the warning clear as day in their combined auras. _Hokey, then. No talky about demon essences or mating or anything else. But what a future…too bad I can't see a big chunk of it._

"We can trust them." He said once he gathered his thoughts. "In fact it's vital that they help us, we won't be able to kill the Beast and bring back the sun without them."

"Excellent," Wes brightened up considerably, coming to his feet. "Now then…"

"But there's a problem." Lorne interrupted the demon hunter.

"Problem?" Spike asked his voice silky with threat. Wes just gave Lorne a frustrated glance.

"A big part of your future is missing." Lorne said puzzled. "It's like that second before Spike joined Buffy only worse. I could see a fragment of her future but no more. Once Spike started signing their auras merged just like we thought they would and their futures fleshed out. But there's still bunches missing, sweeties."

"Greatttt…." Buffy laid her head on the back of the couch with a groan, staring up at Spike. "You know that the problem is, dontcha, love?"

Spike grimaced. He knew all right. He just fucking hated it…for the most part. Part of him was kinda…relieved and excited that the wanker was such a big part of them. The fucking fecker.

"What?" Lorne asked, clueless.

"Angelus." Buffy said at once, closing her eyes. "He's my original Mate and Spike's Sire. The missing piece to our little song is Angelus."


End file.
